


Five... Four... Three...

by onward_came_the_meteors



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Balloons, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Happy Ending, New Year's Eve, New Years, One Shot, POV Third Person, Party, Pepper Potts-centric, Ratings: G, Romance, Team Dynamics, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onward_came_the_meteors/pseuds/onward_came_the_meteors
Summary: The Avengers are ready to celebrate New Year's Eve with balloons, music, and friends, but a call to assemble changes the plan.Now Pepper is left alone to wonder if they can make it back before midnight. Time is running out...
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Five... Four... Three...

**Author's Note:**

> Disclosure: I did not do the math and therefore have no idea which New Year the Avengers would be celebrating, but I hope you enjoy anyway! :)

December 25th, 6:24 A.M.:

“I told you we could’ve had a party,” Tony Stark said, dropping the phone on the wrapping-paper-littered couch. “None of them have any kind of social life, what were we expecting?”

Pepper Potts purposely avoided answering. “Who was that?” she asked instead, nodding to the phone, which would probably become either hopelessly lost in the wrapping paper to be thrown out, or hopelessly lost in the seam between couch cushions. She’d found two other phones and a screwdriver in there last week and had to fight the urge to rescue this one from the same fate. Tony would learn to be more careful with phone placement if she let him lose it. Except that he’d just assume he’d lost it somewhere else and get a new one in the same breath. She held back a sigh.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Caller I.D. says Clint, he answered the phone to ‘Greetings, defenseless mortals, this is the mighty Hawkeye.’ I have got to get him a PR department.”

“He probably knew it was you calling.”

“Of course he knew it was me calling. The only other people he ever gets calls from is S.H.I.E.L.D., and they favor breaking and entering slightly more than literally any other version of effective communication.”

“At least you called it effective.“ Pepper swept some more tissue paper onto the rug and cleared a space for her to sit. The rest of the room was similarly covered--despite the only Christmas gift exchanging going on between the two of them--due to the bots having been given access to (read: found in a closet by accident) dozens of rolls of wrapping paper and taking great delight in, er… making the tower festive. “Doesn’t Natasha call him?”

“No.” Tony said it like it should have been obvious. “Look, if those two don’t already have sleepovers every night, I’ll put that archery target on the ‘A’ outside. If you’re already attached at the hip, you don’t need to resort to mere technology to communicate.”

“Hmm.” Pepper mentally ran down the list of the Avengers in her head. Yes, their names were rather obvious, and she had met them all already--on multiple occasions, some of which were better not to be mentioned--but, hey: she liked making lists. She was an organized person, and that, at least, wasn’t hurting anybody.

Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, and Thor… yeah, in hindsight, they should probably have assumed none of them would have plans, even on Christmas. 

Well, besides Thor, who was in space. Again. Kind of made contacting the man difficult, since StarkPhones didn’t have an intergalactic range (YET, as Tony would compulsively add whenever she made this observation).

“You called all of them?” she asked, just to double-check. “And all of them answered and said they didn’t have plans?”

Tony nodded for the first question and waved his hand around vaguely for the second one. “It was implied.”

Pepper patted the spot next to her on the couch. “Implied by them actually saying ‘No, I don’t have plans?’” Because that’s the only way you know for sure.”

“I couldn’t reach Blondie, obviously. I don’t think he owns a phone. Bruce didn’t answer. I think this is when Steve does his jogging because he was out of breath, and Natasha said her schedule was classified but I could hear the TV in the background, so. None of them have plans.”

“Well, it’s too late to have a Christmas party now,” Pepper said, looking out the window at the fluffy snow blanketing the city. “Maybe we should give DUM-E his stocking and have breakfast.”

Tony nodded from his new position sprawled on the couch. “His is the red one.”

Pepper stood up and stepped over to the shelf. It was a stubborn tradition that all the bots got stockings, but DUM-E’s was always saved for last after the year he’d gotten overexcited and sprayed the room with fire extinguisher. As she reached for the red stocking, she caught a glimpse of the watch on her arm. One of the fancy digital ones, that displayed the time and the date. 

Even the year, blinking black against the screen. Of course, that wouldn’t be the year for much longer…

Wait a second.

“Tony?” Pepper waited until he sat up, a grin spreading across her face at the prospect of maybe, just maybe, having a party after all. “Call them again and ask if they have plans for five days from now.”

Tony frowned. “Five days from now? But that’s… oh.” A matching grin appeared on his face and he stood up to embrace Pepper. “You always have the best ideas.”

December 27th, 7:18 P.M.:

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to say that again,” Pepper said into the phone, ignoring Tony shaking with silent laughter next to her. It was two days after Christmas and all the wrapping paper had been cleared up, but knowing him he would manage to find a way to fall off the couch anyway. The mighty Iron Man, everyone--losing it over finding out a simple new fact about their friend… er, coworker? Oh, never mind.

“I said I can come!” Clint Barton repeated cheerfully, his voice fuzzy through the phone.

“No, no, I got that part,” Pepper said. “Rewind to the why.”

There was a pause, and then Clint repeated himself, clearly confused at Pepper’s request, like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on them. “I said Laura and the kids got invited to a New Year’s party at a friends’, and these friends don’t know me, and none of us felt like explaining to them Hawkeye’s their neighbor. What’s so confusing about that?”

Pepper closed her eyes briefly. Maybe if she repeated it to herself enough times, it would make sense: Clint Barton was married and had kids. Clint Barton--codenamed Hawkeye, a man she had personally seen shooting aliens with a weapon from 20,000 B.C.E. and an all-black superhero getup--was a dad. 

No, that didn’t help. 

Pepper opened her eyes again, masking the confusion in her voice with some good old reliable pep. “Never mind. As long as you can come, that’s great. We were thinking of starting at about eight or eight-thirty…”

“And if anyone can’t hack it until midnight, we’ll draw on your face,” Tony interrupted into the phone.

Pepper yanked it away as Clint laughed at the other end. She knew she shouldn’t have put it on speaker.

“I’ll bring my Magic Markers, then,” he promised. “Just in case you can’t handle it.”

No doubt Tony had a retort ready, but Clint hung up before he could say it. All the better, in Pepper’s opinion. Once any of the Avengers started a taunting match, it was likely to last the rest of the day. Or week if the Avengers in question were Steve and Tony.

“Remind me again why we decided to have this party?” Pepper asked teasingly.

“Because it’s important to spend time with others around the holidays?” He looked sincere up until he added: “That or the drinks.”

“There’s your New Year’s spirit.”

December 29th, 7:38 P.M.:

“And that should be the last one.” Natasha Romanoff tied a knot in the last balloon and spiked it into the air, where it gently floated onto a pile with thirty or so more. Pepper still couldn’t entirely believe that the Black Widow had volunteered to blow up balloons for a party--well, if showing up unannounced at Avengers Tower (she still refused to reveal how she’d gotten past the security) and nearly giving Pepper and Tony heart attacks was considered “volunteering.”

Tony crumpled the empty balloon package and tossed it over his shoulder into the trash. “Come on, Romanoff, there’s no such thing as ‘the last one.’ We’ve probably got about ten more packages in a drawer somewhere… hey, Pep, do we still have any of those glow-in-the-dark ones from JARVIS’s birthday?”

Before Pepper could answer, JARVIS came to life. “No, sir, although might I say that they were spectacular.”

“Thanks, J.” Tony grinned. “See? The A.I. has spoken, everyone--we’ve got to get more balloons.”

Pepper surveyed the room, which was completely covered in a carpet of balloons so thick they were nearly swimming in them. Balloons in all sizes, shapes, and colors of the rainbow… even a few Iron-Man-themed ones that they hadn’t been able to resist, but one of which Natasha hadn’t been able to resist popping… accidentally, of course.

One thing was for sure--actually, two things. The first was that she should never underestimate the willingness of two Avengers to spend an entire evening blowing up an obscene amount of balloons. And the second was that if there was one thing that they needed in this tower, it was not more balloons.

“I think we’re good with the balloons,” Pepper said, slipping the phone out of Tony’s hand, when he’d been about to place an order at the nearest party store. “How about we start putting these ones up in the balloon net so we can drop them at midnight?” That had been another one of her ideas--one of her cousins had had a balloon drop at a New Year’s party years ago. Of course, someone had pulled it too early and they’d had to scramble to get all the balloons back in before midnight… but as long as she guarded the string, that probably wouldn’t happen here.

Of course, she and Tony were planning a party for a bunch of superheroes, so “probably not” was about as far from “definitely not” as Avengers Tower was from Asgard.

“I disagree.” To her surprise, it was Natasha who said that, not Tony. The super spy grinned, her red hair dancing with static from the balloons. “I think we’re going to need a lot more balloons.” When Pepper looked at her in surprise, Natasha shrugged and clarified. “I was at a party once where they strung a bunch of balloons together into a curtain and hung it from the ceiling for people to walk through. I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Yes!” Tony cried gleefully, taking the phone back from Pepper’s now-outstretched hand, quickly resuming typing his balloon order.

Hey, when the Black Widow wants a balloon curtain… you’re getting a balloon curtain.

December 30th, 11:49 A.M.:

“I don’t know, Cap, I’m not sure I’m willing to risk food poisoning this close to the party.” Tony leaned across the shiny counter (the kitchen in Avengers Tower had two settings: gleaming magazine ad or complete and utter disaster area) and inspected the tray that Steve Rogers had just pulled the lid off of.

Pepper swatted Tony’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’re delicious, Steve.” Honestly, she was impressed he’d mastered modern kitchen appliances well enough to bake--god knew Tony wasn’t anywhere near that point even after a lifetime in this century. “What are they?”

Steve pointed to the first container, which he’d peeled half of the foil off of. A baked-dessert-type smell was emanating from it. “Bread pudding.” The second container: “Oatmeal cookies.”

“I bet they have raisins.” Tony tilted his head to look up at Steve. “You have that aura.”

Steve shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what people usually have for New Year’s parties, and there’s not much I know how to make, but…”

“I still can’t believe you can cook,” Tony muttered.

Pepper got ready to swat him again.

“Hey! Not in a bad way!” Tony grinned crookedly at Steve. “If I can have a party where Captain America caters, clearly I’ve done something right sometime in my life.”

“I doubt that, Stark, but I’m glad my traitorous raisin-containing cookies don’t offend you too badly,” Steve said dryly. He turned to Pepper, “How many of them are coming?”

Pepper started counting off on her fingers. “Clint, Natasha, Bruce… Thor’s a maybe, if he can get here in time… you, obviously… oh, and Rhodey said he’s free that night too.”

“We can all celebrate the arrival of 1946 together,” Tony said gravely.

This time Pepper let Steve do the swatting.

December 31st, 8:24 P.M. The Night of the New Year’s Party:

“Let’s get this party started!” Tony announced as the door opened to reveal the last guest, the Norse god of thunder himself.

Pepper turned away from where she and Rhodey had been grabbing plastic drink cups (party planning was thirsty work) and got ready to endure one of Thor’s booming, overenthusiastic greetings. At least they’d all turned up the music--Clint and Natasha were even dancing (no, not with each other) and Bruce and Steve were both trying to identify the song (neither of them were that fluent in pop culture, but only one of them had a real excuse). 

But Thor didn’t look that enthusiastic. He was dressed in his armor and was swinging his hammer from hand to hand, a serious expression clouding his features.

“This is not the best night for a party, my friends,” he finally said. “I was contacted by S.H.I.E.L.D. upon my arrival. There’s been a threat to a city north of here and they cannot handle it on their own.”

The room fell silent, and Pepper slowly lowered her drink. All eyes went to Thor.

He met eyes with everyone in the room. “We’ve been called to assemble. Everyone needs to go, now.”

When the Avengers were called to assemble, they assembled. Pepper could only stare in horror as Rhodey set his own cup back on the table and followed Tony to grab their suits. Steve dashed to the coattrack to grab his shield (how had he fit it under his coat? Why would he even feel the need to bring it to a party?), and Clint and Natasha both pulled out their own weapons from wherever they’d been concealed. Bruce simply joined Thor at the door, asking him in a low voice: “What’s going on? Who contacted you?” Thor did his best to explain himself, but it was clear that he wanted to leave, and leave now.

Pepper bit her lip. Where were Tony and Rhodey--?

Right on cue, the two men appeared back in the party room… or, more appropriately, Iron Man and War Machine appeared back in the party room. Rhodey flipped up his faceplate.

“We’re ready to go. Is there anything else we should know first?”

Thor shook his head. “You can see once we get there, I’m sure.”

“Great.”

“Anyone need a lift?” Tony’s voice came from inside the Iron Man suit, not even bothering to flp up his own faceplate. He was trying to sound casual as usual, but Pepper knew that every time the Avengers were called out was… well, not very pleasant for any of them.

Natasha and Clint both stepped back; Clint touched a finger to his nose and called “Not it!” 

“How old are you--”

“Better call it, Nat, before--”

“Fine. Not it!” Natasha touched her own nose. Trying to keep it light before they had to throw themselves into danger. Again.

Bruce sighed. “I guess that means it’s my turn.” He walked over to Tony, who lightheartedly announced something about Bruce being the lucky one or whatever, whatever; Natasha and Clint, the other… well, what should she call them? Relatively normal? Everyone knows that none of them can be called normal in any sense of the word. The ones who need superpowered assistance when being transported to an Avengers mission, given as they can neither fly nor are gifted with a superhuman running ability? 

Whatever you wanted to call them, they matched up with Rhodey and Thor for rides; Thor was the first out the door. The others quickly followed: Steve giving her a polite nod, Bruce a wave, Tony just looking at her for a long moment. If his face wasn’t covered by the suit… but she knew what he was thinking anyway, and she thought the same things back to him. 

And then the door closed, and Pepper ran to the window just in time to see two metal suits and a hammer-wielding alien flying away. In another second they were gone, but she stayed by the window long after they were out of sight.

Finally, she stepped back and turned slowly around the room. The dance music was still playing, though no one was dancing. Drink cups had been hastily abandoned on tables, shelves, or arms of furniture. The balloons on the floor had been kicked aside in a rush to the door, except for the ones resting in their net for the balloon drop (which might not happen now) or threaded onto a curtain (which Natasha wasn’t here to appreciate). 

Pepper was the only guest at a party for ghosts.

And it was 8:31 at night.

Three and a half hours before midnight.

A New Year she might begin all alone.

December 31st, 9:48 P.M.:

Pepper switched the TV off. She couldn’t take another second of watching bad lip-synchers “performing” at Times Square when she knew Tony and the others could be in danger right at that moment. The ball wouldn’t drop for hours, anyway, and she had no desire to watch endless commercials until that time.

“JARVIS,” she said instead. “What’s going on?”

There was an uncharacteristically long pause before JARVIS finally answered. “Hello, Miss Potts. Mr Stark has asked me to reassure you that he is still alive, as are the rest of the Avengers.”

“Well, tell him he’d better stay that way, or we will be having words,” Pepper muttered. She didn’t necessarily mean for JARVIS to relay the message, but there was another long, silent, pause while he apparently did just that.

“Mr Stark has attempted to answer you, but has been otherwise distracted by a rather large piece of metal flying directly at him. If I may, Miss Potts, I would suggest that you allow both him and I to concentrate all our focus on the current situation?”

Pepper felt a flood of guilt. “Of course, of course; I’m sorry.” She waved a hand, even though JARVIS had no physical body to shoo away. “Go back to doing that, don’t mind me.”

“Thank you, Miss Potts.” With that, JARVIS’s voice vanished, probably helping control the Iron Man suit.

Pepper let her head fall back on the couch. How was she supposed to sit here without any news?

Suddenly inspired, she grabbed the TV remote again and flicked the TV back on. Only this time she bypassed the Times Square coverage and went instead to the news.

Nothing.

Another channel… nothing.

Another… another… another… 

Pepper threw the remote down in defeat, staring at the weather being cheerfully displayed in front of her. None of the news channels were covering the Avengers--in fact, most of them were just talking about all the things happening on Times Square and joking about how this would be the last news story for the year. Whatever Tony and the others were doing hadn’t caught the attention of national news yet. 

There was no way to stay updated on the situation.

Maybe she should go back to watching the lip-synching after all.

December 31st, 11:02 P.M.:

Pepper woke up with a start and was instantly angry with herself. How could she have fallen asleep when… well, when who knew what Tony was doing? Mind whirling with chastisements, she reached for her phone. No missed texts or calls, whether from the Avengers or anyone else. Just an end-of-year coupon for Bed, Bath, and Beyond. And of course S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t thought to tell her anything either, even though as far as they knew, she had no idea what was going on.

Which was not far from the truth, she decided as a quick flip through the TV channels determined once again that all the news stations cared about was Popstar Somebody-Or-Other wearing something risqué onstage at Times Square. Not one peep about the Avengers. She threw a pillow at the screen. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered to one of the bots, who had rolled into the room, wheels squeaking. Tony had probably left the door to his lab open and the bots were looking for him. Before she could plunge too deep into the emotional impact of that simple thought, she finished addressing the bot. “They’re called throw pillows for a reason.”

It was probably better that she stay away from the TV for now, though. Pepper stood up and crossed the room to the food table, where the ice cubes were melting into the punch and Steve’s treats were getting stale. Only a few bites had been taken out of the assortment of snacks they’d gathered (when one was dealing with a group of superheroes, a lot of food was needed, trust her) and the tower Rhodey had made out of red plastic cups had fallen over.

To distract herself, she cleared up the now-inedible and/or undrinkable things and restacked the cups. She poured herself some of the punch, but barely raised it to her lips before spitting it out. It was lukewarm and mixed with water from the ice cubes, and she was pretty sure someone (three guesses who) had spiked it with something. 

“Probably a good thing Tony didn’t get a chance to have any yet,” Pepper mused aloud. Her voice echoed in the empty room, or was that just her imagination? “It’s probably a violation of something: Flying While Intoxicated.”

The Pepper of Eight Hours Ago had foreseen the punch-spiking, at least (an instinct honed from too many years of dealing with Tony Stark at parties) and had hidden an extra bowl in the cupboard. The Pepper of Right Now debated going and getting it, but she didn’t really want to try to continue this party by herself.

Even though now it was less than an hour till midnight, and there was no sign of any of the Avengers.

December 31st, 11:34 P.M.:

“Yes, love you too. Bye, Mom,” Pepper said into the phone. “Yeah, Happy New Year!” Her fake smile lasted all the way until her finger hit the red button to end the call, and then was replaced by… well, she didn’t really want to look in the mirror to check. She could imagine the emotions running across her face just fine on her own: worry, stress, disappointment. Not much room for New Year spirit. 

She was glad her mother had called, though--they probably didn’t talk as much as they should, now that Pepper was so wrapped up in Stark Industries… and in Tony Stark. And the call had been something to fill up all the empty space and time that now stretched out before her. 

Almost twenty minutes till midnight…

December 31st, 11:56 P.M.:

Really, JARVIS or the bots should know better than to let Pepper turn the TV back on when she was worried. The screen had not yet been damaged under an onslaught of about fifteen throw pillows, but who knew if it would take fifteen more. 

Except that JARVIS was helping Tony control the Iron Man suit right now… 

Pepper clenched Pillow #16 between her hands and forced her attention back on the screen. It appeared that there was little chance of precipitation tomorrow, but next weekend would likely see scattered snow showers and icy conditions… 

“Aaaaaargh,” Pepper groaned, jabbing her finger back on the channel button. Times Square inevitably flashed on the screen again, the ball almost ready to drop. 

Before the party, she’d teased Tony by asking him if there was anyone he’d be kissing at midnight. “Y’know, I was hoping on Thor, but I don’t think Jane would be too happy,” he’d said. “Guess I’m out of luck, then. Unless you know of anyone who’d be interested?” 

“Well, if Tony Stark can’t find anyone to kiss at midnight, I don’t see how I could help,” she’d said. The two of them had grinned at each other and decided why should they bother to wait until midnight? 

Now Pepper was wishing they’d saved that kiss.

It looked like she would be starting the New Year alone now. 

December 31st, 11:59 P.M.:

Pepper didn’t want to watch, but she didn’t want to look away, either. Maybe if she just turned off the TV, it would stay eleven o’clock forever, but she was surrounded by clocks: the wall, her phone, even her new electronic watch that she’d been so happy about a few days ago but now wanted to throw off a bridge. There was no denying the passage of time, all the millions of second hands tick-tick-ticking the year away…

And yet her eyes stayed glued to the TV as the ball inched lower and huge pixelated numbers began the countdown…

“Ten!” The thousands of people gathered in Times Square were shouting so loud Pepper couldn’t be sure whether the sound was only coming from the TV or whether she could hear it from across the city. 

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

“Seven!”

A thread wriggled in her mind and she remembered the balloon drop they’d planned to have at midnight; she eyed the string that would release all the balloons, but decided not to bother.

“Six!”

“Five!”

“Four!”

What was that--was she imagining things?

“Three!”

Were those footsteps right outside the--

“Two!”

“One--!”

The door burst open, revealing seven sweaty, bloody, battle-grimy Avengers who spilled into the room. Pepper shot up from the couch and dashed over as fast as she could--

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

And the whole world was shouting it, but Pepper had eyes only for Tony as he stumbled out of the Iron Man suit and staggered toward her, pulling her in an embrace neither of them had dared to hope they could have. 

“I’m sorry the party was… put on hold,” he murmured. “I’ve heard New York City traffic was bad, but you won’t believe how much worse it is thirty feet in the air.”

“Might have had something to do with the evil robot army,” she catches Rhodey saying to Steve. 

“I can imagine,” she murmured back, hardly aware of what she was saying, only that words were coming out of her mouth and she was just happy to get the chance to say them. “Welcome to two thousand and--”

“Don’t spoil it!” Natasha cried. Pepper finally breaks apart from Tony to look around at the others, all of whom must be exhausted, because they actually start grinning at Nat’s comment. 

Clint nodded. “On the flight back, we elected that because none of us saw the ball drop, New Year’s didn’t happen.”

“Is that right?” Pepper laughed in spite of herself.

Thor frowned. “I do not understand this--ignoring the passage of time counteracts its existence?”

“If only,” Steve said with a perfectly straight face. Five seconds later (about as long as it takes extremely tired superheroes to get a joke) the others burst out laughing. 

“By this logic, we’re starting the party over!” Tony announced.

Pepper took in the scene: balloons waiting to be dropped, food waiting to be eaten, drinks waiting to be drunk, and Avengers waiting to have a New Year’s party. 

But she also saw the blood seeping out of rips in their suits, the way Clint winced when Thor bumped his arm, the way Natasha kept blinking and steadying herself against the wall, the black eye slowly blooming on Steve’s face, the bruises covering Tony and Rhodey from where skin rubbed against metal inside the suits. As she watched, Bruce even half collapsed against Thor’s chest, so covered in blood and dirt it took a moment before Pepper registered his lack of clothing above the waist, and even that was barely hanging on.

Just like all of them were clearly barely hanging on.

If they could choose to turn back the clock, she could turn it back a little more. 

“The party can wait,” Pepper decided. “We’re getting you all to Medical.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And Happy 2020!


End file.
